The Hero
by Mr. Black1
Summary: It is NOT dead. Alive. VERY alive. (Chapter 10 is up, R&R!)
1. Fiendish SuperVillainy!

Okay, this is the start of Fic Numero Dos. If you haven't read my other one, "The Corpse"...  
  
[Gets down on knees] Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeese read it!!  
  
Okay, enough begging from me. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
My name is Ryan, and I am the most fiendish super-villain the world has ever known! Muhahahahahaha!  
  
Okay, technically I'm just a friendly kid counting the days until school ends, but not today. Today a massive plan will come to fruition. Today I will pull off the biggest prank in school history.  
  
That airhead cheerleader won't know what hit her!  
  
Perhaps I should explain. See, last week, a prissy, "I'm better than you" type girl named Kaitlyn decided to play a dirty trick on someone, an acquaintance of mine named Cassie.  
  
No, in case you're wondering, she's not my girlfriend. She's just a really friendly girl, and it's a shame how Kaitlyn embarrassed her like that.  
  
I won't go into the exact details, but Kaitlyn's actions were really, really mean. Someone needs to show her what's what.  
  
The ancient Greeks had a theory on how one's downfall will take place. It comes in four stages. First is a word you probably have never heard of: "arête". It means a state of perfection. Kaitlyn is good looking, has plenty of "friends" (AKA hangers-on), Things were going great for her.  
  
But arête leads to a word you probably have heard of: "hubris". Hubris is a state of pride. A belief that since you're having a great life so far, you're better than everybody else.  
  
Hubris leads to "atè". Atè is rash action, something you wouldn't do if you were humble. Embarrassing Cassie was an example of Kaitlyn's atè.  
  
Finally, as a result of atè, you will receive a visit from Nemesis, the goddess of vengeance and retribution. She'll straighten you up.  
  
Today, the role of Nemesis will be played by me. Hold your applause.  
  
Although I masterminded this operation, I have an accomplice. Here he comes.  
  
"Is everything in place for today, Marco?"  
  
"Yup. Everything's all ship-shape and seaworthy. This is going to be classic. I wish I thought this up."  
  
Marco's another acquaintance of mine. Since we naturally share a fiendish sense of humor, we hit it off when we first met earlier this year.  
  
"All right, Marco, I'm sure you'll hear of what transpires. See ya later."  
  
"I'm sure I will. Bye, X."  
  
Often, other people call me "X". It's a little weird how I got that nickname. A layperson would simply think it's because my middle name is Xavier. It's a little more complicated than that.  
  
Before I was born, the plan was to name me Ryan, and for me to have no middle name. Well, from day one I had these markings on my body in the shape of an ornate "X". There's one on each of the backs of my hands, and also a larger one across my back. Since these odd "birth marks" were so prominent, my mother decided to name my middle name in honor of these markings, with "Xavier" being the only name she could think of.  
  
When I was young, I asked my mother why I had these tattoo-like markings. Her answer still bewilders me to this day:  
  
"Ryan, they are ancient runes of protection, to safeguard you through your journey."  
  
My mom's a little weird. But that's okay, at least they look cool.  
  
* * *  
  
Here's how this plan was inspired. The night Kaitlyn played that joke on Cassie, I was at home typing up an English paper. Turns out my printer was out of ink. Since my mom would also need to print something that night, she gave me some money and I headed over to the electronics store for a new print cartridge. When I got there, I noticed a "do it yourself" cartridge refill kit. Thinking that money saved is money earned, I bought it. The way it works it you first poke a hole in the cartridge, use a syringe to fill it with ink, then tape the hole up. It came with two "doses" of refills. I used the first to refill the cartridge, then I put the kit away and printed up my paper.  
  
The next day, we learned that we would be doing the classic "frog dissection" in biology class. Since I happen to be a member of the Biology club, I would prepare the frogs the day before.  
  
Later, in another class, we discussed the aftermath of a tobacco lawsuit.  
  
Okay. We got an ink-syringe, dead frogs, and cigarettes. How does one come up with a world class prank out of this?  
  
Have you ever heard of a "load"? It's a small sliver of wood inserted into a cigarette. When the cigarette is smoked down to the load, the load will catch fire. This results in a tremendously funny explosion in the smoker's face.  
  
In short: I put a load in Kaitlyn's frog.  
  
It's a little complicated, but here's how it works. Before I went to school on the day the frogs were to be prepared, I prepared the load. Using the ink syringe and a Tylenol gelcap, I created the fiendish device. I poked a hole in the gelcap, poured the medicine out, filled the gelcap with ink as much as I could, then I sealed it. Later, while we were preparing the frogs after school, I took a frog, cut it open from the back, and stuffed the gelcap inside. I put it right near the skin of the belly, where the first cut of the experiment was to be made. I put my "trick frog" back into place, and made sure that it was the one I'd get to operate on today.  
  
Did I mention that I'd convinced the teacher to assign Kaitlyn as my lab partner?  
  
Just to make it better, I enlisted Marco. I had him whip up a phony love letter to Kaitlyn from a "secret admirer", telling her to wear her best and most expensive clothes. The "secret admirer" would meet her at lunch, which is right after the biology class. She'd be looking great during that class.  
  
Super-Villainy. Sometimes I scare myself.  
  
Biology class is about to start. Time to make history. 


	2. The Plan's Aftermath

Chapter 2! Isn't it cool that we start with a double feature? Enjoy!  
  
Ryan's POV  
  
Kaitlyn walked in the door, looking cute as a button. But alas, it was all for naught.  
  
She might as well worn a sign saying "Lamb Being Led to Slaughter"  
  
She had a great sky blue bareback top on, very tight denim jeans, a pair of shoes that must be made out of plutonium for how much they cost, and more makeup than the entire population of North Dakota.  
  
Me, I simply wore a plain black T-Shirt and cheap jeans. I was prepared.  
  
I must've been wearing my heart on my sleeve that day. Cassie spotted me, and gave me one of those "what are you doing?" looks.  
  
She must be psychic or something.  
  
I shot my best "Everything will be made clear" look and got my "special" frog out of the storage area.  
  
I named it "Squid." Clever, eh?  
  
As the teacher called out the lab partner assignments, I prepared myself for the most difficult part of the plan. The part that will make or break the operation. This is EVERYTHING.  
  
I had to trick Kaitlyn into making the cut.  
  
"No way I am touching that disgusting thing! You're the biology geek, you do it!"  
  
"Listen, Kaitlyn. We're supposed to be partners here. You need to make the cut."  
  
"You like slimy things so much, you can do it. I don't want to touch it and get rigor mortis!"  
  
"You only get rigor mortis when you die. This thing will not kill you."  
  
"I'll kill myself if I touch that thing!"  
  
Sigh. This was difficult. But I had to succeed. The entertainment of the school demanded it.  
  
"All right, I'll make you a deal. You make the first cut, and I'll do the rest, everything down to separating the organs. Otherwise, I'll tell Mr. Baron you're not doing the experiment and he'll drop your grade. Don't you have a 4.0 or something?"  
  
"Just one cut?"  
  
She's MINE! I got her! I am victorious!  
  
"Three cuts. Just two across, and one vertical across the belly. Like this:"  
  
I took a felt marker and drew the "I" pattern that you're supposed to use. I made sure to draw the line right through the payload.  
  
"Would you like gloves, Kaitlyn?"  
  
"Yeah, please."  
  
"Okay, I'm gonna go get some. Just remember: make the cuts as fast as possible. One. Two. Three. Then I'll take it from there, 'kay?"  
  
"Got it."  
  
I got the gloves. I enjoyed every single step I took.  
  
Cassie stopped me.  
  
"Ryan, what are you doing?"  
  
"I'm balancing out the universe, Cassie."  
  
I headed back before she could respond. I handed Kaitlyn the gloves, the scalpel and Squid's dissecting tray.  
  
And I got ready.  
  
Slice. Slice. Squirt.  
  
Her sky blue top now had a few festive black polka dots.  
  
Sounds odd, doesn't it? All that planning just for a simple ink squirt. But what happened after that was epic. Epic.  
  
At first, nothing happened. Kaitlyn just stood there and stared at this unknown black stuff on her shirt. But I could see the thoughts forming in her head:  
  
What's that black stuff?  
  
Ink? Frogs don't have ink, do they?  
  
Wait a minute...dead frog juice? Frog blood? Disgusting.  
  
It's on me....On. Me. ON ME!!!!!!  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!"  
  
Music. Beautiful music.  
  
Kaitlyn went into a frenzy. She started running around the room like a chicken with its head cut off, screaming: "EEW! Dead frog juice!"  
  
Mr. Baron had to nearly tackle her to calm her down. She was ranting like a mad lunatic. I used this time to try to get rid of the evidence. I grabbed the gelcap shell and threw it away.  
  
Unfortunately, I missed a piece of the shell. After inspecting Squid's blackened innards, he noticed the foreign object.  
  
Busted.  
  
* * *  
  
Marco's POV  
  
It was lunch time. The entree of the day was Sludge Surprise, I believe.  
  
It tasted great, though. The fact that almost the entire school heard Kaitlyn's scream, half of them thought we were under terrorist attack or something. Even my man Jake was alarmed when he heard it.  
  
"Man, did you hear Kaitlyn scream just before lunch? It scared me half to death!"  
  
And in a lower tone, he added: "I almost morphed tiger."  
  
You see, me and my Animorph "packmates" each have a role to play. I'm both the Security Officer and the Morale Officer. Here's an example of what I do:  
  
Security Officer: "Shhhh...keep it down."  
  
Morale officer: "You didn't hear this from me, but I know what happened. Me and an accomplice played a prank on her."  
  
Jake's interest was peaked. Normally, he spends most days in school trying to get some sleep, something we don't get much of nowadays. But today, he seemed vigorous.  
  
See, I'm a Morale Officer. Every fighting team should have a morale officer.  
  
"You know Ryan, the guy with the weird birth marks?  
  
" X ? Yeah, why?  
  
"We rigged up a frog to explode ink all over her. She thought it was frog's blood or something. She screamed bloody murder."  
  
Not many people around here like Kaitlyn. She's mean, annoying, prissy, and rude. When X came to me for help on the "lesson" he was teaching her, I felt obligated to lend a hand.  
  
"No way, really? Man, Rachel's gonna laugh her head off. She can't stand Kaitlyn."  
  
"Speak of the psycho, and she appears, Jake."  
  
Rachel had arrived at our conversation.  
  
"Of course you can sit next to me, Rachel," I said with a smile.  
  
After throwing some Sludge Surprise at me, she sat down next to Jake.  
  
"Hey," she said. "Did you hear about Kaitlyn?"  
  
* * *  
  
After school, I caught up with Ryan. I guess he came to thank me for my help.  
  
"Did you enjoy the show, Marco?"  
  
"I thought the lead actress was horrible, but the director was awesome."  
  
Ryan smiled triumphantly.  
  
"I deserve an Oscar," Ryan said. "Unfortunately, Mr. Baron found out. I screwed up with the evidence. He sent me to Chapman, where I was tried, convicted and sentenced within ten minutes. God bless America's justice system."  
  
Chapman is our vice principal. He's also a high ranking Controller. If you're not up to speed yet, let me tell you.  
  
Controllers are people who have been infested by Yeerks, a species of aliens that can take over your mind, and are invading the planet.  
  
Yeah, I know it sounds whacko. But when you think about it, it's really no weirder than Michael Jackson or Mike Tyson.  
  
The Yeerks have a front organization called the Sharing. Under the guise of promoting "quality of life", they just kidnap people and make them slaves in their own minds.  
  
"So what's the sentence, X? One week detention? Two?"  
  
"Nope. He's making me join that boy scout group...what's it called...the Sharing or something."  
  
I immediately became serious. Ryan was about to become enslaved. I had to try and help him, it'd be a tragedy for comedians everywhere if his mind was taken from him.  
  
"When do you gotta go, X?"  
  
"Tomorrow. He said I'm going straight to full membership. Maybe they need a good creative mind or something. Oh well, See ya, Marco."  
  
He left, without an ounce of knowledge of what is about to happen to him.  
  
And I stood there, without an ounce of knowledge of how to save him. 


	3. Look the Other Way

Sorry for being late, it's been a slow week on the inspiration front. My style of writing from the hip and not planning out anything until it happens is a little reckless, no?  
  
Chapter 3: Ryan  
  
I went home after a job well done. Too bad I have to waste my Saturday going to that stupid Sharing meeting tomorrow.  
  
I was supposed to go at around 3 PM to receive my "honorary full membership", as Chapman put it. It was shortly after my soccer game.  
  
I'm on a youth soccer team, the Wizards. I'm one of the central defenders. Defense is one of those jobs where it's completely necessary to play your heart out the whole game, and yet no one in the stands notices you. It's a lot like an offensive lineman in football, but they're on the field only half the time. I got to work the whole 60 minutes. (We play short games, not the usual 90-minute games.)  
  
Our defense is the main way my team wins games, oddly enough. Our forwards aren't the best in the league, but our defenders and goalie are rock solid. The other central defender, Manny, works very well with me. We've got a system set up where just us two players can cover three attackers. One defends the ball carrier, and the other defends one of the extra men. The one attacker that's not covered by anybody is also the responsibility of the ball defender. By carefully paying attention to where the open man is and how the ball carrier acts, Manny and I can predict where a pass to the open man is coming, and the ball defender can usually break it up with a slide. The other defender would get the ball upfield.  
  
This way, one guy can defend two, and two guys can defend three. It's pretty cool when it works.  
  
Our goalkeeper, Jerry, is also a great player. If Manny and I can't break an attack up, Jerry will usually stuff it with a great save.  
  
Well, anyway, I needed to figure out a way to incapacitate myself and get out of this Sharing thing. I turned on the TV to try and get some inspiration.  
  
After about thirty minutes of channel surfing through the idiocy that is afternoon television, I was about to give up when my mom walked in, wearing her normal business suit, complete with gloves. She's got the same weird tattoo-like markings that I do, except that A) They're in the shape of ornate sun-like circles, not X's, and B) There are also many markings up her arms, connecting the hand marks to the large, sun-like circle on her back. She's got to cover them up, because let's face it, it's tough for a jury to believe a prosecutor who has more tattoos than the criminal on trial.  
  
"Hello, Ryan."  
  
Uh oh. Usually she's a little more talkative than this when she walks in. Not a good sign.  
  
"I got a call from your vice principal today. Would you like to explain your sabotage of a perfectly good science experiment?"  
  
My mom's a lawyer. She's a county prosecutor, the one who tries to put the criminals behind bars for good. Lying wasn't too good of a plan here.  
  
"All right...Okay. There's this girl...."  
  
"You had a crush on her so you rigged a frog to blow up in front of her?"  
  
"What the?!? No! I can't stand her. No one can. Last week she embarrassed another student for no good reason. She had it coming, that's all."  
  
"I see..."  
  
The next few seconds were nerve-wracking. I had no idea how my mom was going to react. I was genuinely surprised when the verdict came in.  
  
"Congratulations. You did exactly what I'd have done. I'm proud of you."  
  
I then said exactly what was on my mind:  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"You made sure someone who had wronged another paid for it. That's justice. Isn't that the point? You saw to it that justice was served."  
  
"Ummmm...okay. I'm surprised that's how you feel about this. I thought you'd be mad."  
  
"No, I'm not. Dispensing justice and protecting those who have been wronged are things you'll be doing more often eventually, I'm glad you're starting now. It means you're growing up."  
  
My mom talks about my future a lot. I don't know why, I don't have a clue what I'm going to be when I grow up. She just seems to know, and she won't tell me. Told you she was weird.  
  
"Mr. Chapman said you'd have to attend a meeting of his Sharing group. I assume you don't want to go?"  
  
"Of course not. I got better things to do after the game tomorrow."  
  
"All right. You didn't hear me say you don't have to go...but if you seem to disappear before the meeting, I'll look the other way."  
  
Deep down, beneath the weirdness, my mom is pretty cool. How many other parents would overturn the sentences of Vice Principals?  
  
"Anyway, Ryan...how was it? Did she scream?"  
  
"Oh yeah. Screamed at the top of her lungs."  
  
"Tell me all about it," my mom said, with a giggle.  
  
"Okay, I made the ink thingy last night out of that printer refill kit..."  
  
* * *  
  
Marco  
A few minutes after I got home, I gave Jake a ring. I was going to try to convince him to get Ryan off the Yeerks' hook.  
  
Normally I wouldn't do this. I'm usually the guy who says: "Yeah, I know it sucks, but this is a sacrifice we need to make." Going after Ryan isn't really that important in the grand scheme of things, and it's a potential security risk. If all of the sudden, the "Andalite bandits" the Yeerks have been hating show up to save a single middle school kid, they might put two and two together. If they figure out who we are, it's Lights Out. Game Over. The End.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hi. Is Jake there?"  
  
"Speaking."  
  
"It's me, Marco. I was thinking we should get together. Maybe hit the arcade at the mall today. Who knows? Maybe I can run in to your cousin and hit on her."  
  
That's a code. See, phones can be tapped. Also, Tom, Jake's brother, is one of them. Jake's been hiding under his nose for ages now, and we need to keep it that way.  
  
I said: "We need to have a meeting. Gather up everyone and let's meet at the mall."  
  
"You're a weird guy, Marco. You know, funny you should mention it. Erek called me up. He was gonna hit the arcade too. He asked if I wanted to tag along. And I heard Rachel mention that she's dragging Cassie into the black hole of mall shopping. Even Phillip's gonna be there too. You're welcome to come if you want."  
  
"Sure, I'll be there, man."  
  
Click.  
  
Jake's reply is code too. Here's a loose translation:  
  
"We're already having a meeting. Erek, our spy in the Yeerk organization, has uncovered something big and horrible, and he wants us to do something insane and suicidal and take care of it. Rachel and Cassie are already informed of the meeting. And yes, it's urgent enough to let Ax (Phillip was the name of his human morph) within two miles of a cinnamon bun. So get over here, we're waiting...and oh yeah, bring some quarters for the arcade if anyone who knows us spots us and we can go do what we're supposed to be doing."  
  
It's a hard knock life, being an Animorph.  
  
After leaving a note for my dad and Nora, I left for the mall. Unfortunately, I had to walk. I prefer to fly these days.  
  
I'm sorry, Ryan. I guess you're just going to be pushed aside for the big picture. Be strong, man. 


	4. Short On Time

Chapter 4: Marco's POV  
  
The Mall. The center of suburban culture. A place to hang out. A place to spend money.  
  
A place with a lot of food.  
  
"Please? Pleeeze-uh? May I have just one? Wunn?"  
  
"Man, we need to start bringing a leash for him...make sure he doesn't run off and bite somebody," I said.  
  
Andalites don't have mouths. Therefore, before he first morphed human, Ax hadn't tasted anything before. Once he had his first cinnamon bun, he's been to heaven. He's never looked back. He's like an addict now. If he gets too close to one...  
  
Maybe when this war is over, Andalites will come to Earth, acquire human morphs, and eat. And then, Eater's Anonymous will soon be founded.  
  
My name is Aximili, and I'm an eataholic.  
  
Hello, Aximili.  
  
We met in the middle of the food court, with Ax (or "Phillip," if anyone asks) and the others. Jake, Cassie, Rachel, and Erek.  
  
"Hey, where's Tobias? Doesn't he need to hear this?" Rachel asked.  
  
Jake had the answer for that one. "He already knows. He's out scouting ahead."  
  
"Knows what?"  
  
"I'll take that one," Erek said.  
  
"The Yeerks have started a factory. They're mass producing equipment."  
  
Cassie interrupted. "What are they building? Portable Kandronas? Dracon beams?"  
  
"Worse. Explosives."  
  
"Explosives? What, they're going to come to my Fourth of July party?" I wondered.  
  
"No, they're stockpiling for the upcoming battle for Earth, and they're shipping off equipment to other theaters of war. In short, this place is going to be a major supplier of the Yeerk war machine in this area of the galaxy. So, in other words, once this place ships out its first batch of bombs, a lot of people who don't want to become puppets will become dead instead."  
  
Jake cut Erek off. "We need to make sure that first batch never gets off planet. We're wiping that place off the map, and we're doing it soon. Erek, when is the first shipment leaving?"  
  
"Tomorrow evening. That's why I needed to meet you so soon, I just found out about it."  
  
"So, all we do is we go in, use one of the made bombs to nuke the place, and get out? Well, that's simple. Want to go tonight or tomorrow?"  
  
Rachel, of course.  
  
"Down, Xena. Won't all those bombs set each other off and blow a good chunk out of the Earth?"  
  
Ax chimed in. "No. If the Yeerks are using stolen technology, and they are, the bombs will be inert until activated. Vayted-uh. For safety reasons."  
  
"So it's safe to use one bomb to blow the place to the Moon? Cool. Let's do it."  
  
"Rachel, can you for once forgo your urge to blow things up? It's not natural. I mean, usually only men like to blow things up."  
  
Rachel's elbow rammed itself into my chest.  
  
"It won't be that simple, though," Erek added. "The Yeerks know this place will be a likely target. So, they're surrounding the place with not only guards, but human shields."  
  
"What?!?" Cassie demanded.  
  
"It's a Sharing community center. It's open twenty-four seven. There will always be Controllers there, but the place will have a lot of innocent people just visiting too. We need to figure out a way to clear them out."  
  
Jake made the call:  
  
"So here's our plan. We need to find a way to take out the factory, but make sure no innocent non-Controllers get hurt. Everyone needs to come up with a plan. We need to come up with something by about four o'clock tomorrow. We'll meet at Cassie's barn, then head over with the best idea we have."  
  
I thought I had to say something here.  
  
"So...let me get this straight. We're going to attack a heavily guarded weapons factory. Our current plan is to go home, then come up with a better plan?"  
  
"Yup. You're surprised?"  
  
Nope. I wasn't surprised at all.  
  
* * *  
  
Ryan's POV  
  
The referee's whistle shrilled. It was the end of regulation.  
  
It had been a long day, and it's not over yet.  
  
We'd been playing our hearts out all day, but we're up against a better team, and we knew it. The Rockets had only lost one game this season, and it was to us earlier this year. How'd we win it? Simple. We scored on a lucky accident, One of their defenders was caught napping, and we were able to get a big break there, and we scored. It was one of maybe four times we were on offense, because they were pounding on us almost the entire time. Manny and I almost keeled over and died afterwards, but we played great and Jerry pitched a shutout. We won 1-0.  
  
Now here we are again. Just before the end of the first half, Coach K (he's got a really long last name...we just call him Coach K) called the "Everybody Make A Suicidal Offensive Charge" play. Fortunately, we didn't lose the ball (Even Jerry was playing at midfield, to keep us on offense), and our "bet it all" approach worked. We scored.  
  
Alas, we couldn't hold their attack off forever. Jerry had to give one up.  
  
So here we were, tied at one goal apiece. We had a fifteen minute overtime period.  
  
Here's the problem. If this period ends without a goal, the game will end in a tie. That'd be fine, but we're in playoff contention. Every point matters now, and we NEED to win. So, drastic times call for drastic measures.  
  
"Okay, guys. This is must-win. Know what that means?" Coach K asked.  
  
"Send everybody!" That's George, one of our wingers.  
  
Coach K smiled. "Yup. Go all-out. We're just going to have to risk losing the one point for tying to get the three for winning. It worked earlier, so let's do it again!"  
  
"Yeah!" most of us yelled in unison.  
  
After a little more pep talk and a LOT of water bottles, we took the field. This period was supposed to last fifteen minutes.  
  
It wasn't going to last five. Either we score or they do.  
  
We had the ball to start. Our left forward passed it to the right forward, and then he held on to it for a few seconds.  
  
The rest of us all charged. Even Jerry.  
  
It was insane. We were passing the ball between ourselves like a game of Hot Potato, and they were desperately trying to break it up. They did once, but Manny way able to slide into him almost immediately, which saved us possession.  
  
And also the game.  
  
Eventually, one of the Rockets defenders committed a foul. It wasn't in the penalty area, though. We got an free kick.  
  
I usually take the set pieces. (Free kicks from fouls, penalty shots, but not corner kicks. I'm a defender.)  
  
The Rockets set up the usual human wall between me and the net. The rest of my teammates were constantly buzzing around, trying to find an opening.  
  
I thought where I should put it. Hit the far corner? No, we might lose possession that way. Short? No, that'll give us the ball, but we won't get a good shot and we'd waste the free kick.  
  
Might as well try for the goal. Why not?  
  
I reared back, ran up, and booted it.  
  
I tried to curve it. I succeeded a little, as it was initially flying at the right side of the net, but it was veering left.  
  
The Rocket's keeper was caught off guard. He came left, and blocked my kick with the tip of his hands. He didn't catch it, though.  
  
Loose ball in front of their net!!!  
  
I charged. Hell, everybody did!  
  
Carl, one of our forwards, got there first. Realizing that he was literally surrounded, he passed it away.  
  
Back to me.  
  
The ball came to my foot. I set my feet. I got ready to let it rip.  
  
And then time stopped.  
  
No, really. It stopped. I was there, frozen. The ball was at my feet. My foot was rearing back.  
  
It must've looked funny, really. About twenty guys about to descend on little old me.  
  
Wait a minute...they ARE moving. And so had I. My foot had moved about one more inch since this thing started.  
  
I guess time was just moving slowly.  
  
I started to turn my head, but it was moving real slowly. But then I noticed something.  
  
The Rockets' keeper was set up perfectly to block my shot. I'd kick it right into his hands, he'd throw it upfield, and the Rockets would have a free breakaway at our open net.  
  
If I shot now, we'd lose.  
  
I tried find a better way. I looked around as fast as I could.  
  
Hey...George is over there on the other side. He's open. I might be able to put a pass over there, and he can shoot.  
  
My foot had reached the top of its swing. It was about to come down.  
  
Pass to George.  
  
Someone pressed the "Play" button.  
  
I sent it to George. I was immediately slide tackled. I hit the ground, hard.  
  
The keeper was totally faked out. He tried to leap out and catch the ball, but he wasn't that fast. He hit the ground too.  
  
George had an open net in front of him.  
  
Bullseye.  
  
* * * 


	5. We Catch a Break

Work.  
  
The bane of my existence. I mean really.what the heck am I supposed to do for 8 hours on a slow day like this? I work at a pawnshop. I've seen a LOT of interesting things and people, but not today. Today it's dry as a bone, no customers in sight. Even the crackheads aren't bothering us.  
  
Might as well try to put a chapter away, right?  
  
Side note: At the time of this writing. Alara-Sirinial-Amalon is responsible for one third of total reviews so far. Thanks a lot, Alara!  
  
Chapter 5: Ryan's POV  
  
George's goal had won us the game. It hadn't won us a championship or anything, but we were ecstatic just the same.  
  
Afterwards, we did our usual team thing: Everyone thanked everyone else for doing their part. My personal thanks went to Carl, who was able to get the ball to me so I could set up George.  
  
I may have thanked Carl, but I should have thanked that time warp thingy that had happened. Without it, I'd have shot at the goal, the keeper would catch it and we'd lose. It made me do the right thing, but it didn't make sense. Time doesn't just "stop".  
  
Awww.forget it. I'm no astrophysicist. I'm just a kid.  
  
My mom wasn't in the stands today. That's a shame.she only missed game when something really urgent came up.  
  
Oh well.she'll explain it.she always does.  
  
I took my cleats off, put my regular shoes on and walked home. I was quite tired, but it wasn't far.  
  
I went inside. I threw my dirty "# 19" uniform in the laundry hamper, and took a quick shower. Afterwards, I still had about an hour and a half to kill before the Sharing thingy started. I put on some clean clothes, put some gloves over my "X"s, and got ready to rack my brain.  
  
As I walked to my couch to start thinking, a note from my mom was on the end table.  
  
Ryan,  
  
Sorry, can't catch the game. Some guy awaiting trial escaped, and all hell broke loose at the office. I need to go sort it out, and it might take all night. Let me know how it ends up tomorrow.  
  
Jen  
  
P.S. Here's $20 for you to have fun with after your accident happens. Don't burn the city down.  
  
Yeah, my mom's name is Jen. She always signs her notes like that.not "Jennifer", but "Jen".  
  
Anyway, I left for the game an hour before my mom did, I had to be there early. She must've gotten a phone call after I left, and had to skip out.  
  
Okay.I need to find a way to show up at this meeting (to make Chapman happy) and not show up at the same time.  
  
After channel surfing for a while, an idea began taking shape.  
  
Home Alone was on.you know.that Macaulay Culkin movie where he beats up on some crooks with the help of some useful household items? There's a scene where he has a gangster movie running when the crooks are outside. To make noise to scare the crooks off, he's got a batch of firecrackers. When the gangsters in the movie are about to shoot each other, he sets the firecrackers off. It sounds like gunshots.  
  
After seeing that scene, I went to my ammo stockpile. All good pranksters have stockpiles of fun stuff. I had the right type of firecrackers.  
  
On the Discovery channel, there was a little thing explaining the ventilation systems of buildings. Vents go everywhere in a building.  
  
And they carry sound REAL well.  
  
So here's the plan: Go to the Sharing meeting. Shake some hands, say hi to everyone, and make sure Chapman knows you came. Find a way to plant the firecrackers in one of the vents. Set the fuse, then get near the door. When it goes off, leave during the commotion.  
  
There we go. That's how it's done.  
  
I checked the paper for movie show times. I had to be at the meeting at 5:00, I'd set it off by 5:15, so I could get to the mall and catch the movie I wanted to see by 6:30.  
  
Well, since my plan was all ready to go, I figured I might as well give Marco a call. What fun would it be to go to a movie alone?  
  
* * * Marco's POV  
  
I've been trying to find a good way to pull this off for quite some time now. Attacking the factory itself would be simple. Definitely not easy, but simple, as in "not complicated." Erek swiped the building plans, so we knew how the building was laid out.  
  
But there's just going to be too many people around.  
  
Try as I might, I couldn't think of a way around that.  
  
Ring.  
  
Phone call.this'll give me a few seconds to relax.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Can I speak to Marco, please?"  
  
"Speaking."  
  
"What's up, man? It's Ryan."  
  
Hmmm.what did I need to remember about Ryan and today?  
  
"Hey, X, how's life?"  
  
"Taking forever. Anyway, you doing anything tonight? I've figured out a way to get around that Sharing meeting. I'm probably going to start something rather big, but I can get out fast enough. I was going to try to catch a movie afterward, wanna come with?"  
  
Oh yeah.  
  
Ryan's supposed to be taken by the Yeerks today. He's required to show up at that meeting. He'll be given immediate "full memebership".meaning he gets a slug in is head immediately.  
  
Well.if he can find a way out, more power to him.I mean, after all, we WERE going to raid that place tonight.  
  
"What's the master plan, X?"  
  
"I'm going to plant some firecrackers in an air vent shortly after I show up. After Chapman notices that I came, it'll go off. It's gonna sound like a lot of loud gunshots. I figure it'll scare everyone, and I can slip out during the frenzy. Everyone will probably run out screaming. It'll be hilarious."  
  
Wow. That's all I could say. Wow.  
  
We, and when I say "We" I mean me, the other Animorphs, and the Chee, had been tearing our figurative (and in Tobias's case, probably literal) hair out with how to clear out the innocent people from that building.  
  
When the "shots" go off, the normal people will run away, and the Controllers will hold their ground.  
  
I guess you could say "We" just caught a break.  
  
"Wow, man.that's gonna be great. When's it gonna happen?"  
  
"I'm going to show up at five.the party should start around 5:15."  
  
"Cool. When's the movie gonna start?"  
  
"I'm shooting for 6:30. Meet me there?"  
  
"All right, I'll try, X. I got a LOT of homework to do, but I'll do my best."  
  
"Homework? You? Yeah, right. Real funny man. See ya later."  
  
Click.  
  
I was feeling pretty good about myself. It was about time to head to the meeting at Cassie's, so I started to fly there.  
  
Too bad I overlooked something slightly relevant. A little voice of reason inside me spelled it out for my during the flight:  
  
"Hey.did you ever think that maybe this firecracker thing just might put the guards on alert? Just might make them cranky? Just might make them ready to kill us?"  
  
I hate that little voice, I really do.  
  
* * *  
  
Author's Note: Well, about the second I finished typing the note at the top, the customers flooded in. Speak of the devil and he appears. Anyway, now that I got this out of the way, I might as well go inflate Alara's review count over at fictionpress.com the same way she did mine. :o)  
  
Also, I need to type up the next part of "The Corpse" tonight. It's WAY overdue. And since I'm going to be playing in the biggest poker tourney of my life on Saturday, I'm probably going to be writing during a free online practice tourney. My AIM name is "ASixHighStraight" if anyone wants to chat, ask about either story, or ask my why the heck I named myself "ASixHighStraight". See you tonight. 


	6. Notice Anyting Odd?

Saturday was the day. THE day. There were 599 players. One, only one, will walk away with a ticket to the World Championship event at the World Series of Poker. It was going to last 8 hours. I settled in, put my best music on Winamp, and played my heart out.  
  
The first hour I played excellently. I probed and parried, and when I saw an opening, I thrust at it. I'd broken two players and I'd brought my chips up to about 25,000 from a 10,000 start.  
  
I kept on rolling for four more hours. I was moving my chips flawlessly, picking up the easy pots and staying out of trouble. The only time I actually DID get in trouble, I was able to run a huge bluff to get out of it. That bluff catapulted me to the top. I was the chip leader of the whole tournament, with over 250,000!  
  
But going into the fifth hour, I started to tire. My longest tourney to this point had been three hours. I hadn't had the mental preparation to concentrate for such a long time. My mind started to wander. I started to find myself in trouble. And at last, I fell...in 23rd place.  
  
23 out of 599. That's over 95%...that aint bad, right? Oh well, I'm only 19, I'll get another chance. I just need to work on my "endurance"...nothing I can't fix. (Thanks a LOT to Anifan1, who gave me tons of encouragement on AIM.)  
  
Okay, enough about me. Reviewer response:  
  
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon; Rachel9466; Teiwaz; L: All four of you are asking for more. Well, since I finally figured out a good way to do the next few chapters, they'll be up relatively quickly.  
  
Philip (Triple Point) Walker: Thanks. Who knew the English Premier League games they show late on digital cable contributed to my writing style? :o) Also, one of the recurring themes of this story is the "little things" that make Ryan involved. For example, the Marco couldn't possibly have stumbled upon an attack plan for the factory had Ryan not watched "Home Alone" in Chapter 4. Creepy how these little things seem to make Ryan's insignificant shenanigans significant...  
  
You probably want to read the story now. Enjoy!  
  
Chapter 6: Ryan's POV  
  
The Sharing rec center wasn't that far away, it was a short walk.  
  
I was dressed in my ultimate "average" look: A simple T-Shirt, jeans and tennis shoes...also gloves for my markings. When the party started, I need to slip out fast and not noticed.  
  
I had a small, green bag (about the size of a bowling ball bag) with me to carry the "package". I had some of the quick popping firecrackers, a screwdriver for opening the vent, and a pretty cool fuse my cousin brought down from upstate last year. It burns at exactly 2.2 inches a minute. I brought 12 inches of fuse for exactly a five-minute countdown from when I light it.  
  
Although it was nearly five o'clock, it was still light outside...Daylight Savings Time. As I walked up to the rec center, I noticed a pretty big bird flying around over head. It was bigger that an average pigeon or seagull...and it had a bright red tail. Weird.  
  
Sigh...what does that matter? It's just a bird.  
  
I went inside. And to my horror I saw...  
  
(pause)  
  
A mind-numbingly average rec center. A ping-pong table, a basketball hoop, a few vending machines. God this place is boring.  
  
Well, that'll change.  
  
I noticed Chapman lounging around in the corner, talking to a few other adults I don't know. Since "Objective A" was to get noticed, I went up to introduce myself. Chapman and his cronies quickly hushed up as I approached...I wonder why?  
  
"Good afternoon, Ryan. I'm glad you could make it."  
  
Glad I could make it? I'm not here by choice, so I'm going to at least amuse myself by scaring everybody! Muhahahaha!!  
  
"Hi, Mr. Chapman."  
  
"Ryan...you're going to be given full membership tonight...how's it feel?"  
  
Both of his cronies immediately started to stare at me. What was I supposed to say?  
  
"It's an honor, although I'm not too familiar with the organization."  
  
"Don't worry, Ryan. You'll love it. You'll do great things...who knows? You may save the world someday."  
  
Yeah, right.  
  
"When does it start?"  
  
"In about thirty minutes. Feel free to have fun until then."  
  
"Don't worry, Mr. Chapman. I will."  
  
I turned to walk away, with a smirk on my face.  
  
"Hey Ryan...what's in the bag?"  
  
Uh oh. Did he suspect? No...he couldn't possibly know...  
  
"Oh...it's...um...some provisions for tonight. I don't have any money for the vending machines so I brought some snacks from home."  
  
Whew...is that believable? I hope so.  
  
"Oh, okay. See you in half an hour."  
  
Yes! He fell for it!.  
  
* * *  
  
I set off to search for an air vent, preferably one that I could open up unnoticed. After a poking around for a few minutes, I went through a door. It led into tiny room with another door. It had a numeric keypad lock on it.  
  
But more importantly, it had a vent.  
  
After a quick look around, I went to work. Open the bag and get the stuff out. Open the vent. Set the fuse. Light it. Get out.  
  
Just as I set the fuse, I checked my watch. 6:10:03. As I said to Marco, the party starts at 6:15.  
  
Something weird caught my eye. I looked up at the ceiling. And I saw something pretty weird. Either it's a security camera or it's a weird looking sprinkler head for fires.  
  
Wait a minute...this is a rec center. How can it possibly have security cameras? Gotta be a sprinkler head.  
  
I pocketed the screwdriver, and left. I head out to the front.  
  
I checked my watch. 6:14:37. I got next to the door, and tried to look like I was just going out for fresh air.  
  
I noticed something when I stepped outside: That red-tailed bird was still up there.  
  
Not that big of a deal, I was only there for about 20 minutes. Maybe the bird is waiting for night or something.  
  
6:14:59. 6:15:00. 6:15:01.  
  
Here it comes...  
  
BOOM!! BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!  
  
Screams. Panic. A lot of people running, including me.  
  
But as I ran, I had a weird feeling...y'know...the one where you think you forgot something...  
A/N Sorry, this is where this installment ends! You'll just have to wait a few days for the next one. Don't worry, I won't be too long. :o) 


	7. A Pawn For a Rook

Sometimes I wonder about the fate of the human race. But I wonder no longer. I know how we'll end up: we're screwed. Don't believe me? Here's a snippet of a phone conversation I had at work today:  
  
Me: "Hello. Crown Jewelry and Loan. This is Tomm, how can I help you?"  
  
Caller: "Ummm...is this Crown Jewelry and Loan?"  
  
Me: pause "Yes. How can I help you?"  
  
Caller: "I...ummm...I'm looking at your ad. It says you buy and trade. Do you buy and trade?"  
  
And it just goes on like this. Sigh...if there was only a way to put the massive stupidity of our species to good use.  
  
Reader response:  
  
digimon-lover; Alara-Sirinial-Amalon; DJ Eagel: I've got a thousand monkeys typing round the clock, but due to budget shortages, I only have three typewriters instead of a thousand. We'll get the next chapter up as soon as I cut a deal with their union leader about bananas in the company vending machines.  
  
RIA: Like his personality? Thankee. Although the time warp thingy is a little weird, it has nothing to do with the Ellimist. I think using him as a way to explain all sorts of unrealistic stuff is lame.  
  
Oedipal Kat: Thanks. Although it looks like one, this isn't a self- insertion at all. Ryan's completely made up, not based on anyone I know. If it was self-insertion, Ryan would be spending all of his time playing poker and cursing stupid pawnshop customers. :o)  
  
Amy Angelblade: Lost your spark? Just do what I do. To connect events, try to do it in the simplest, most basic way possible. That way, it looks like it was "all meant to be", when in reality it's just a bunch of coincidences.or is it?  
  
Qwerty: I assume you mean "Turok", the video game? I've never played it, so any correlation is completely coincidental.  
  
L: Research papers. The bane of all students. You want Ryan as an Animorph. Hmmmm. Will he become one? Well, I don't know. Who knows? He might not need to become one.  
  
Here we go with the actual story now!  
  
Chapter 7: Marco's POV.  
  
All right. Ryan's inside. He's wearing an normal, white shirt, jeans and gloves.  
  
Tobias was doing his usual part: aerial watch. We were getting in position to attack when Ryan's firecrackers went off. When Erek showed us the plans, he showed that there aren't any security cameras outside. It made sense. After all, why would a community rec center that's open to the public have any security al all?  
  
Probably because this rec center's a death factory. I said to no one in particular.  
  
Prince Jake, the firecracker will detonate in thirty seconds. Ax informed us of the time.  
  
All right, Jake responded. Rush 'em. Clear the front public area, then get to the chokepoint. Bust the door in then rush the production area. Then get out. This shouldn't take long.  
  
It turns out that this building is divided into two parts. One is the public rec area. The other is where the bombs are produced. Connecting the two is a small room. The public side of this room is unlocked, but the door to the production floor is secure, even including a numeric keypad. Erek had found the code for us, though.  
  
Five seconds.  
  
I braced myself, and got ready to move. I was in my main battle morph: a gorilla. A gorilla can break walls down if he's in the mood.  
  
Five. Four. Three. Two. One.  
  
Zero.  
  
...  
  
Why isn't it...  
  
BOOM!! BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM!!  
  
It was three seconds late, Ax explained.  
  
Go! Now! Jake made the call. We all moved in.  
  
After smashing through the window, I took a quick look around. The place was in chaos, as Ryan told me it would be. Everyone was either running for the exit, or standing their ground. Those who stood still and alert were our targets.  
  
They may have been alert, but we were able to time it almost perfectly. We each were able to drop a Controller before any real shots got off. Those that did fire missed completely.  
  
I didn't notice if Ryan was away. But, more importantly, we had a job to do.  
  
We all made our way to the chokepoint room. After pushing the door open, Ax started entering the code.  
  
I noticed a little smoke coming from a vent. This must've been where he planted the firecrackers. There was also a little green bag on left open on the floor.  
  
I'm finished, Ax said. We have access.  
  
The door opened. What did we see? Two factory workers with their guns trained on the door. They fired.  
  
ARRRGH! I wailed as one of the bullets struck me in the stomach. But we were already barreling toward them. When we got there, we knocked them out with ease. Ax went to work finding a bomb and setting it.  
  
Tobias! We're in. Anything happening outside? Jake asked.  
  
No, I don't see any kind of response. That'll change soon though.  
  
Rachel had something to add. Hey, couldn't we keep a few of these bombs? They might come in handy.  
  
Jake answered. We can't take them out. Only Ax and Marco have hands, and Andalites and gorilla just down walk down the street.  
  
I had a response for my crazy compatriot. Hey Ax, aren't these things inert? Meaning, there's no way to sense them?  
  
Ax was still working on priming one of them, but he had answered: No. Scanners will not be able to sense them.  
  
Perfect, Rachel says. We can just hide a few somewhere nearby. We can come and get them later.  
  
All right, Jake says. Grab a few, and find a box to put them in. We'll stash it behind a Dumpster or something.  
  
Unfortunately, there weren't any boxes around. There were only large steel crates. Those won't hide anything.  
  
The little bag near the door! That can hold a few. I grabbed it, and started stuffing it with the bombs. They were about the size of an apple.  
  
Prince Jake, the bomb is armed. It will detonate in one minute, perhaps we should leave?  
  
Tobias called: Jake! The cops are starting to arrive, they'll be here in about three minutes.  
  
Time's up, everybody get out! Marco, Cassie, stash the bombs somewhere once you're outside. The walls of the building will contain the blast.  
  
Cassie and I ran through the chokepoint room. As I ran out, I noticed a weird black thing on the ceiling. Probably a security camera. I smiled my lovable gorilla smile at it, and continued running out, with the bag of bombs in tow.  
  
I'd like to say that the bomb exploded the instant we were clear, Miami Vice-style, but it didn't work that way. We were outside with at least 15 seconds to spare.  
  
Marco, I found a place to hide them! Come over here, Cassie directed me.  
  
I lumbered over as best I could, but I was already starting to morph human. Cassie was morphing as well. She pointed a finger/wolf claw toward a pile of cardboard boxed and trashcans.  
  
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!  
  
Debris started flying out of the windows as I remembered that the bomb hadn't gone off yet. Oh yeah.  
  
Anyway, I stached the green bag under the boxes. It's going to take a real odd coincidence for this to be found.  
  
Cassie had already morphed to osprey. I started to do the same.  
  
Is everyone away? Jake asked.  
  
One by one, we all reported:  
  
That was awesome!: Rachel.  
  
I'm safe.: Cassie.  
  
I am safely away, Prince Jake.: Ax  
  
My presence still graces this earth.: Me.  
  
Tobias interjected: Okay boys and girls, it's time to go. The cops will be here in two.  
  
We flew off, back toward Cassie's barn. Cassie seemed to have something on her mind though...  
  
Marco, she said to me in private thought-speak. Ryan put the firecrackers in the chokepoint room, right? Did he forget his bag?  
  
Maybe, why?  
  
Because of the security camera on the ceiling. It sees Ryan come in, plant something in a vent, and leave the bag behind. It then sees us use the bag to steal bombs. It'll look like he was helping us.  
  
A/N: Somebody's in some hot water. Good luck Ryan, you might need a lot of luck to weasel out of this prank's consequences... 


	8. 00:00:01

Friday afternoon phone call:  
  
Me: Hello. Crown Jewelry and Loan, this is Tomm. How can I help you?  
  
Caller: Hi, ummm...what time you guys close?  
  
Me: Six o'clock. That's in twenty minutes. If you can't make it, we're open weekends from 10 to 3.  
  
Caller: Okay...what time are you guys open on Saturday?  
  
Sigh. Sometimes I want to take the shotgun by my desk and blow my brains out.  
  
Reader response:  
  
DJ Eagel: I asked my boss about telling them to @#$% off and this was his response: "Don't do that, Tomm. You don't want to make them dumb AND angry."  
  
Kiki Lee: Sorry I didn't include your review in my last update, I posted just as you were reviewing. Thanks. I thought the opening tag line was good.  
  
Qwerty: Don't worry, spelling isn't that relevant. We got the point across.  
  
Oedipal Kat: "Just down walk down the street": legitimate typo that slipped through the cracks. "It's gonna take a real odd coincidence": I think it's fine as-is. "Pitched a shutout": Although that phrase is derived from baseball, it is also used to describe any sport where the defense hinges primarily on one person (Baseball, Hockey and Soccer) This is only acceptable in the USA, however. If a European journalist used that phrase to describe a soccer game, he'll probably get lynched or something.  
  
Note: Due to some odd technical difficulty, all thought-speak messages will be designated by brackets, and not greater/lesser signs.  
  
It's go time. Enjoy the ride.  
  
Chapter 8: Marco's POV  
  
[Oh no! Cassie, we have to help him!]  
  
[Okay,] Cassie started. [Is anyone there?! We have a problem!]  
  
Only Rachel was still within range, I guess. Her thought-speak was faint: [What's wrong? Marco's diapers need changing?]  
  
[Later, Xena,] I replied. [The Yeerks are going to capture Ryan! Are the others near you?]  
  
After a pause: [No. No response.]  
  
[Marco, Ryan called you, right? Did he say if he was going anywhere afterwards?] Cassie asked.  
  
I tried to remember. Where did he say he was going?  
  
[The movies! He invited me to a movie afterward!]  
  
[Which movie?]  
  
Ummm...movies...which are out right now?  
  
[Must be that new action movie that came out yesterday,] Rachel said. Of course. If anyone was up-to-date on mall activities, it'd be her. [I doubt he'd have tickets, though. It had to have sold out yesterday.]  
  
[If it's sold out, how's he going?] I asked.  
  
[He probably bought tickets a couple days ago. Duh.]  
  
That was a definite possibility...  
  
[Ryan doesn't usually plan ahead. Sure, he comes up with a lot of schemes, but it's usually on the spot inspiration. He can't already have tickets, he just asked me today,] I said.  
  
[Then I guess he probably is at home,] Cassie said.  
  
[Yeah, he's gotta be there. Let's go. Can you guys help me out?]  
  
Rachel responded: [I don't know. Usually you're the one begging me not to go on a mission.]  
  
[Come on, Xena. You'll enjoy it.]  
  
[All right, count me in.]  
  
[We probably should get the others,] Cassie said. [It might become a real mean fight.]  
  
[Too bad we don't have time,] Rachel said. [Let's do it.]  
  
Normally, I crack a joke at Rachel when she says that. But in this instance, I'm in agreement.  
  
Let's do it.  
  
* * *  
  
How can you see into my eyes? Like open doors,  
  
Leading you down into my core,  
  
Where I've become so numb?  
  
Without a soul,  
  
My spirit's sleeping somewhere cold,  
  
Until you find it there and lead it back home.  
  
* * *  
  
POV Unknown.  
  
After this long, my time is almost up.  
  
The police scanner in my car was going off, directing squad cars to the house. My house.  
  
I don't know how it came to pass, or why it has come. All I know is what I had discovered less than a week ago. The Earth is being invaded by an alien race. These aliens, called "Yeerks" are in actuality tiny slugs. But they have a special quality.  
  
They can take over other creatures' minds.  
  
They can possess almost anything with a brain larger than a person's fist. And you'd never notice. Their ability to read their host's thoughts makes them act as if nothing was amiss.  
  
I don't know how far they've spread. I don't know how much power they possess.  
  
It is supposed to be my job to stop them. Any time one creature wrongs another, it is my duty to punish them.  
  
I've been doing it for a long time. Too long, in fact. There was enough injustice in this world. We don't need any aliens interfering.  
  
Stop blathering. Focus. You have to get home. Fast.  
  
It might work out. I may have enough time after all.  
  
But they are coming for him. They are coming for my son.  
  
Please let there be enough time.  
  
Please let there be enough time...  
  
* * *  
  
Wake me up inside.  
  
Wake me up inside.  
  
Call my name, and save me from the dark.  
  
Bid my blood to run,  
  
Before I come undone,  
  
Save me from the nothing I've become.  
  
* * *  
  
Ryan's POV  
  
Sigh. What a rip-off. The movie was sold out.  
  
I went home. Alas, it appears that I was going to spend my Saturday watching TV.  
  
My mom wasn't home, although that wasn't a surprise.  
  
I parked myself on the couch, and started to absorb the idiocy that is Saturday night TV.  
  
I don't know when it happened. Maybe about 15 minutes after I got home.  
  
I heard police sirens. Lots of them. Thinking nothing of them, I kept watching. But they didn't go away. What, were they right outside?  
  
I went over to my front door's peephole to see. I saw a few people outside.  
  
Most of them were cops. All ready to assault my house, guns drawn.  
  
Jesus, I thought. All this for a prank? And how'd I get caught anyway?  
  
But then I noticed the thing that wasn't a cop. It was something I've never seen before. It looked like a very tall cross between a dinosaur and a man, and given a bird's feet.  
  
And it was charging. Straight.  
  
At.  
  
My.  
  
Door. 


	9. Killed On Contact

During the monotony of work today, I decided to waste a little time by playing a little scrambled word game I found. Most of the time, I was stumped. The unscrambled words were usually something I've never heard of, or something I was sure wasn't a word. After a while I thought: "Well, if you're going to play an impossible game, you might as well cheat."  
  
I went to Google and found an anagram generator. It was working a little, but most of the time, it failed to find the nonsensical scrambled word. Eventually, I started playing around with it.  
  
I entered my name: Tomm Caudillo. Quickly, it spit out over a thousand anagrams.  
  
It turns out there is a small cost to be me, for I had to pay "a modicum toll".  
  
Looking for difficult to find periodic table element? Check out my "Ol' Cadmium Lot."  
  
When I play poker, I like to wear bowling shirts. I have a few custom made, with a funny name and a made-up sponsor on the back. My next one will have the name "Poison", with my new sponsor: the "Ultima Mold Co."  
  
I could do this all day. But I got a chapter to write. So, here's some advice: "On Wires: Persevere."  
  
Reviewer Response:  
  
Digimon-lover (You're a haunted house! "Deviling Room"), Roquelle (The rocks are revolting! "Quell Ore"!): I wasn't gonna leave you hanging for too long...that'd be mean. And thanks for the congratulations, Roquelle.  
  
Phillip (Triple Point) Walker (too many anagrams to list): Your review was a major help, it made me rethink the next few chapters. The original idea was a little too over-the-top.  
  
Freak Apple (Do you like dessert? You're a "frappe lake".): Thanks for the "save as web page" trick.  
  
L ("L"): New fic, eh? Well, I'll review it as soon as I can.  
  
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon (When someone orders your first volume of stories: "Airmail a Oral Annals: I"!): Don't worry, the update is here. Now pay me back and update over on FictionPress!  
  
Okay, enough fluff. Let's roll.  
  
Chapter 9: Ryan's POV  
  
MOVE!!!  
  
I dived out of the way as quickly as I could, a few seconds before this monster barreled through the door.  
  
At first, I just lay there, stunned. After all, some weird demon, monster, animal or whatever just blew my door open. I was at a loss for words.  
  
I wasn't at a loss for action, though. I got up, and ran. The monster seemed to be clearing the cobwebs out, but he started to chase me!  
  
"RAGASH! ANDALITE ALLY!" it yelled.  
  
I had no clue what he said, but I was more occupied at the moment.  
  
I ran through the house as fast as I could. I ran for the kitchen. There was a door to the outside in the kitchen. But as I ran across the floor, I tripped. I fell forward, and crashed into the cupboard under the sink.  
  
"ARGGH!" I managed to say. My shoulder took the hit, and it was quite a hit. It was throbbing in pain.  
  
It didn't look like it was going to hurt much longer. I was about to die.  
  
I always wondered how I'd go. I didn't think I'd die as a teenager on my kitchen floor, killed by some psychotic walking Swiss Army Knife. Didn't I get a little more time on this earth?  
  
Didn't I get more time?  
  
The monster stood over me. Then, I think it smiled.  
  
"Ragash, Andalite ally."  
  
And then, it raised an arm and swung it down.  
  
I shut my eyes. And prepared.  
  
One. Two. Three.  
  
Hmmm. I'm still here.  
  
I opened my eyes. The monster still had his arm raised. He was still swinging it down. Swinging it very, very slowly.  
  
The time distortion! It's happening again!  
  
I tried to get out of the way. Unfortunately, it was VERY difficult. It was as if my body weighed ten times as much.  
  
This didn't happen last time.  
  
Oh wait, all I really moved last time was my eyes.  
  
Yes! I could still look around! Frantically, I tried to find an answer.  
  
The sink cupboard had opened. I guess one side was jolted open when I crashed into it.  
  
There were plenty of cleaning chemicals. Dishwasher soap. Carpet cleaner.  
  
Also a red aerosol canister.  
  
There's the answer!  
  
I willed every ounce of strength I had to grab that canister. I moved my arm with all my might.  
  
I was able to grab it. The monster's arm was closer, but it still hadn't hit me yet.  
  
I then aimed the canister to spray right in his face. Aimed right for the eyes. And then I pressed the trigger down.  
  
Time in.  
  
As I pushed the trigger down, the white spray filled the air. It also collided right in the monster's face.  
  
He couldn't bring himself to kill me anymore. He clutched his face in pain instead.  
  
"AAARRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!" His voice caused a rumble in my stomach. He was reeling in pain. He didn't know what hit him. But I did.  
  
"Raid. Kills on contact," I said, jubilantly.  
  
Yup. I was just saved by a can of Raid.  
  
But this thing wasn't a cockroach. He wouldn't be incapacitated forever.  
  
I shouldn't run outside...there are cops outside. But if I stay in the house, there's a 100% chance of me getting killed by one of these things.  
  
Reluctantly, I went out into the back yard.  
  
* * *  
  
POV Unknown.  
  
It would have been suicide to enter from the front. The police are probably swarming the place. My only option was to stop on the other side of the block, and enter through the back. I was going to try and get Ryan out, if he hadn't been taken yet.  
  
I stopped thinking about that option. Ryan's resourceful, he can hold out long enough.  
  
Fortunately, our neighbors on the opposite side of the block weren't home. That simplified things.  
  
I ran up to their fence, and vaulted over it. I charged across the their back yard and climbed into ours.  
  
I then heard a scream. A very loud scream.  
  
Ryan? Has he?  
  
No. The voice was too deep. It couldn't have been him.  
  
Just as I was a few feet from the kitchen door, it opened.  
  
I prepared. I felt it happen...I actually felt the outside world slow down. The door would probably take thirty seconds to open. That would be plenty of time to dispatch whatever or whoever was opening it.  
  
It's an odd ability we have. The power to slow time. We cannot stop time outright...that is impossible. But it can be slowed. I never really understood why exactly why me and other members of my family could do this. How we got the power is unknown to me.  
  
But our purpose was clear. We are the latest incarnation of shepherds, those who watch over the many. It is our duty to protect them.  
  
I should have learned of this alien invasion long ago. I probably could have stopped it.  
  
Forget it. What's done is done.  
  
The door was open to the point where I could clearly see who was walking through. It was Ryan.  
  
I stopped. Stopped slowing time, that is.  
  
Ryan immediately pointed a red aerosol can at me, and nearly fired.  
  
"Mom? What the?!"  
  
"Ryan, it's not safe here. We have to go, now!"  
  
"No, really? I didn't notice."  
  
"Not now, Ryan. Let's go."  
  
I started to feel winded, as I always did. The time distortion always took a lot out of me. I doubt it would slow Ryan down when he starts to use it, though. He has such great endurance as a result of soccer.  
  
I'm very proud of him.  
  
As we got to the back fence, I clasped my hands together to give Ryan a boost over. He put his foot on my hand, and pushed off to get over.  
  
And that's when I realized my mistake.  
  
The kitchen door was still open. Inside, one of the cops had a gun, and fired. All I heard was the noise.  
  
Here's the thing with guns and the time distortion. See, the muzzle velocity if an handgun is about 800 MPH. The time distortion slows time to about one fifteenth of normal speed.  
  
Even with that, a small, metal object designed to pierce skin still travels over 50 MPH. It's almost impossible to dodge. You must be able to see the muzzle flash, then get out of the way before the bullet actually exits the gun.  
  
I didn't see a muzzle the flash. Therefore, I could not dodge.  
  
It hit me just next to my spine. It definitely pierced a lung.  
  
I collapsed, still not over the fence.  
  
Ryan had made it to the other side. Getting away was now up to him.  
  
The last thing I saw were a few birds of prey, flying overhead. What were they? An eagle, and two...  
  
* * *  
  
A/N: The song quotes from the previous chapter were from "Bring Me To Life" by Evanesence. 


	10. Alone, In the Dark

Been a while, hasn't it?  
  
Reviewer Response:  
  
Freak Apple: A "Frappe" is a milkshake. Isn't it amazing? Raid's just like duct tape.it's SO useful.  
  
Alara-Sirinial-Amalon: Duly noted. I'm on my way to look at them as soon as I finish this.  
  
L, Cryptic, Roquelle: Don't worry, backstory is coming. As in, right now.  
  
DH: I did my best. Marco's got just as much to say as the others, he's also has a few jokes to throw in too.  
  
Bmw, Triple Point: Ummm.did I actually say she died? Think about that one.  
  
Chapter 10: Marco's POV  
  
We were overhead. We saw everything.  
  
We saw Ryan charge out the back door, and his mother fly over the back fence to meet him. We saw her give Ryan a boost over the fence, and get shot in the back.  
  
And now, Ryan's in the neighboring yard, panicking.  
  
[I'm going down there, to fight them off. One of you get him out of there!] Rachel exclaimed. She'd done this before, but I thought there was a flaw in that plan. You know, besides the "go kill everybody" part.  
  
[Wait, he might recognize out thought-speak voices. You're the only one he doesn't know, Rachel. You talk him down, kill later,] I said.  
  
[I'll go get the others,] Cassie said.  
  
[All right, I'll guide him to safety. Don't make me go down there and save you.]  
  
[Fine, Xena. Just don't kill Ryan because you're bored.]  
  
* * *  
  
Ryan's POV  
  
Okay.  
  
Did what I just think happened just happen?  
  
I don't know. I didn't see.  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Mom?"  
  
[Ryan, right?]  
  
She's ALIVE! YES!  
  
Wait a second.wouldn't my mom know my name?  
  
[Ryan, listen to me. If you want to survive this, do as I tell you. If you understand, clap your hands.]  
  
It's not my mom. It's true. She's gone.  
  
I clapped.  
  
[Okay, run around the edge of this house. Open the gate and cross the street.]  
  
I did as I was told. A few things began to dawn on me though. Mainly, how did this person know my name? How does she know where I am? And how can I hear a voice that I noticed has no sound?  
  
[Listen, this may be hard to believe. A helicopter is on its way,]  
  
Sure enough, there was one in the distance. Quite a ways away, though.  
  
[There's no real way to hide you once the helicopter arrives. Look down.]  
  
At my feet, there was a storm drain. The cap was removable, I'd been down there once on a dare.  
  
[Hide in there. One of us will come to pick you up in a while.]  
  
I did as I was told, again. There were no cops in sight, so they don't know I'm here. I went down into the hole, and closed the lid.  
  
* * * Dear Boss,  
  
I keep on hearing the police have caught me but they wont fix me just yet. I have laughed when they look so clever and talk about being on the right track. That joke about Leather Apron gave me real fits. I am down on whores and I shant quit ripping them till I do get buckled. Grand work the last job was. I gave the lady no time to squeal. How can they catch me now. I love my work and want to start again. You will soon hear of me with my funny little games. I saved some of the proper red stuff in a ginger beer bottle over the last job to write with but it went thick like glue and I cant use it. Red ink is fit enough I hope ha. ha. The next job I do I shall clip the ladys ears off and send to the police officers just for jolly wouldn't you. Keep this letter back till I do a bit more work, then give it out straight. My knife's so nice and sharp I want to get to work right away if I get a chance. Good Luck.  
  
Yours truly  
  
Jack the Ripper  
  
Dont mind me giving the trade name  
  
PS Wasnt good enough to post this before I got all the red ink off my hands curse it No luck yet. They say I'm a doctor now. ha ha  
  
-Letter Received on September 27th, 1888 at the Central News Agency, London  
  
* * *  
  
September 28th, 1888. POV Unknown.  
  
Commercial Street seems to be a simple road upon a man's first look. A few houses, stores, and the Christ Church.  
  
I was walking down the Street with many a thought on my mind. A friend of mine had asked to meet me for tea today. Of course, I was happy to accept the invitation.  
  
It is always difficult to leave the Church, as it is to leave any House of God. When I am in one, I always feel that he is watching over me moreso.  
  
'Twas an average day, by weather. One who looks at the sky alone would believe that the neighbourhood of Whitechapel to be a peaceful section of London.  
  
The neighbourhood of my flock is fouled. Fouled by a man who, in the dark, has been eviscerating women. Many of those I see every Sunday are spending their days gripped by fear.  
  
If you have not yet ascertained my occupation, I am a churchman. A priest, to be proper. As a youth, it was almost clear that I would grow to become a man of the Cloth, for the very mark of our religion I wear across my body. Markings much like the Holy Cross adorn both my back and the rear of my hands.  
  
Today, a friend of mine had called on me. He says that his place of business has received a letter supposedly penned by the scourge of the Whitechapel neighbourhood. He wants to show a copy to me.  
  
If this letter is indeed from the man who slays the people, I must listen. For if I do not protect my flock, I forsake my holy duty.  
  
I will not stand for this. Neither will Him.  
  
* * *  
  
Present Day. Ryan's POV  
  
There I was. Hiding like a rat in a hole.  
  
Well, technically, this was a hole. Some people may call me a "rat".  
  
Anyway, whoever or whatever that voice was told me to wait in here. But how long? An hour? A day? I'll probably be hungry, soon.  
  
Well, going back up would be suicide. I could hear the cop sirens above.  
  
I would just have to wait here, alone. 


End file.
